Image by Florian van Duyn of Unsplash
"Have you been in the forest again? You have the mealy scent of mushrooms. Don't lie to me, Jessie," Grampa fumed. But Mother was still alive and so was the baby. The midwife was tending to them.
"I was, Grampa, but I was only walking. Just listening to the sounds," I replied, knowing that wouldn't be answer enough.
"You risked your mother's life. You risked your baby brother's life. You should have been here," Gramps released all the guilt he could upon me, but the guilt couldn't find purchase on my soul. It had been worth it.
"No one is hurt, Gramps. I am even back before dark. Everything is fine," I smiled, trying to defuse the anger.
"Tell that to your father. Do you see him anywhere? You think the forest is a box of playthings, but they'll come to claim what they want when they want it."
The baby began crying in the adjacent room. I nodded to Gramps and walked through the door to the birthing room. The midwife was trying to assist the baby to latch onto Mother's breast.
Mother looked up from the crying baby and smiled at me with tired eyes, "Come see your brother, Jessie."
I walked over to the bedside and kneeled down so I was face to face with my baby brother. "He is perfect, Mother," I said, because I thought it was the right thing to say. My thoughts were still mingling with the rustling leaves of the forest.
"Are you alright, Jessie?" Mother asked.
"You labored for a dozen hours and you ask me if I'm alright?" Her asking made me uneasy, as if the feeling of happiness I had was somehow wrong. Or a deception.
"I'm your mother," she said. Her smile was gentle yet prying.
"I wish Father could be here," I lied.
"I miss him, too," she paused, letting out a deep breath. "I'm naming your brother after him. Aedan."
"No," I said suddenly, voice quavering.
"No?" Mother shifted her gaze back to the baby, who was struggling to suckle.
"No, I mean, I just think he should have his own name. Be different from...Father."
Grampa stood at the threshold, hesitant to enter the room, yet concerned for the wellbeing of his daughter and his grandson. "Nurse, what's the trouble with the baby?"
The midwife looked up from the baby to Mother, as if she had asked the question. "He's tongue-tied, ma'am. Cursed."
"Shh," Mother replied. I knew she was hushing the midwife and not the baby. Mother didn't believe the village superstitions, but Grampa did.
"I know not if this be the work of hobgoblin, boggart, or brownie, but you best be keeping a sharp eye out for any creature bringing bad luck," Grampa looked at me as he spoke to Mother. "And whatever you do, don't speak to it."
"Aedan will be fine. You forget that my husband also had a tongue tie, Father, and it never stopped him from doing what he wanted."
Grampa turned to Mother and said in a serious and hushed voice, "You forget that he couldn't speak properly. Never could speak the magic words. Trapped he was in that cursed ringlet.
“Enough, Father. That is quite enough. The doctor said he died of a snake bite, which has no relation to any of your poison mushrooms. There, little Aedan is nursing. He's going to be just fine."
I couldn't stay any longer. I ran out of that suffocating room. The sun was barely visible on the horizon. Storm clouds were gathering like blackout curtains. I ran all the way to the edge of the forest and felt raindrops slip down my forehead as I stepped into the black. I found the patch of grass and branches and dead leaves where they had found Father.
"I take it back. I take it back. I take it back," I cried, shivering in the black cold.
Their reply floated to my ears like mushroom spores:
"Dance with me, soul free
Live the myriad forest faerie
Dance with me, young maiden,
And for your joy, we get Aedan."